One Man and a Baby
by RedheadScorpion
Summary: Red finds a baby on his doorstep, and it isn't just any baby. It's Agnes. After Tom abandons Agnes due to his own inadequacies and fears of being a single parent, Red has no choice but to raise the girl. And in doing so, could Agnes turn out to be exactly what he needs to recover from his grief of losing Lizzy? Is she truly gone? Will Red, Agnes and Lizzy be reunited? AU.
1. Chapter 1

Hi, I am still writing my other story I just had this idea which I am not sure if anyone will like. :) Sorry if my English is bad in advance!

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 _ **One Man and A Baby**_

The sound of a baby's distressed, high-pitched wailing roused Red from his drunken slumber on the armchair; A screeching noise so loud that anyone within a three-meter radius could have heard it. He sat upright at once, stumbling to his feet. Perhaps he had had too much Opium over the months that it was causing him to hallucinate? He wondered. But the sounds of a crying baby did not go away; If anything, they grew louder and more piercing as he staggered along the hallway towards the front door of the safe-house.

When he fumbled with his hand around the knob, finally wrenching the front door open, he was greeted with a blast of icy cold midnight air. When he looked down at the ground, it all made sense then. He hadn't been dreaming lucidly. There was a child, and that small child had been dumped on the doorstep, wrapped in a bundle of pink sheets.

In a sheer moment of panic, Red glanced out, searching for the parents the child belonged to. When he could not make anyone out in the darkness, he looked down at the child again, the child who was seemingly a baby girl if the pink blankets were anything to go by.

His heart clenched at the sight of the babies scrunched up, pained face as it wailed, it's skin pink from both the frigidity of the evening air as well as how prolonged its crying had been. A bag lay beside her on the mat. Red thought he recognized the tiny features of the baby girl, and when he bent down, moving both hands underneath the baby awkwardly, bringing her up to cradle her against his chest and into the warmth of his jacket, it was as if what had happened with Lizzy was haunting him all over again.

"Agnes?" He whispered in shock, affection trickling throughout him despite his half-drunken state. A fond smile crossed his lips as the child seemed to immediately settle down in his arms, her crying fading off with a dull grunt. She stared up at him silently with dark, slit eyes of contentment and Red stared back at her, a hoarse laugh escaping his throat.

Surely he had to be dreaming?

In his foggy brain, he vaguely recalled Jacob warning him to stay away from Agnes, that he would be having nothing to do with the child. And could he really blame Jacob for having such an adverse reaction and warning him away? He knew that, try as he might to keep Lizzy safe, it had all been his fault. The cause of her death lay on his shoulders, and his alone. But what of her child? Why was she here, on his doorstep? Where on earth was Jacob?

It had been a long time since Red had looked after a child as young as she, yet as if mechanically, he remembered what to do at once and the role seemed to slide back into place easily like a well-worn glove. He hushed Agnes gently as he looked around again, startled, stepping outside the front door. Something resembling paper crunched beneath the tip of his shoe and as he glanced down, he saw that an envelope had been left there.

The difficult part came next of bending down to grab the letter and the bag with a three pound baby in his arms. He was not as young or as fit as he once was, and bending down was going to be hell on his knees, Red could tell. But miraculously, he managed, using one arm to hold Agnes close and to support her body in the blankets as he managed to pick up both the letter and the bag with the other, sliding the strap over his shoulder. The bag was heavy, weighing him down, but he found himself hoping to God that it had everything he needed in it to take care of a child.

"Let's go inside and get you warm, shall we?" He suggested to Agnes gently, another tender laugh escaping him when she yawned, one tiny hand moving towards her chin. "Yes, you must be tired, sweetheart. Let's get you inside."

He carried her inside, walking in deliberate, slow movements as not to startle her. He could tell that she was beginning to settle down, and that it had more than likely been the fact that she had been left outside in the cold that had affected her. The entire situation he had found himself in, the thought that Jacob would do this to Lizzy's and his child, that he would abandon her and just leave her on the front doorstep where Red was residing... it was incomprehensible.

He made a few shushing noises as he carefully sank into the armchair, rocking Agnes slightly with one arm while dropping the bag on the floor. Unzipped, he could see the canister of baby formula in there, as well as diapers and bottles. He hadn't been left completely unprepared, at least. The fireplace had been on for a few hours in the house, and no doubt, she would now be feeling content and soothed over the warmth in the room. While rocking Agnes gently, Red managed to thumb the envelope open. He yanked the letter out, unfolding it.

 _Reddington,_

 _I've made the decision that I am not fit to raise my daughter alone. Without Liz, I don't want to._

 _For everything you've put us through- for everything you've put Liz through- I feel that you deserve this. Her life is in your hands now. Liz died because of you, and this is what you get for taking a child's mother away from her. Keep her safe for me and Liz._

 _Jacob._

Red felt the blood drain from his face as he reread the handwritten letter several times, trying to make sense of it all. So Jacob had decided he hadn't wanted to be a father anymore. Lizzy was gone, and consequently the idea of raising his daughter on his own without her mother had become too much for him. Red thought he could understand, though it did not make him feel any less animosity towards the man Lizzy had chosen as her partner in life; There was nothing more simultaneously terrifying and equally rewarding as having to raise a child. But to abandon that child?

Red felt hot pricks of moisture gather in his eyes as he dropped the letter onto the table, turning his gaze to the baby girl that he had curled up in his arm, the blankets wrapped around her, keeping her snug and warm. Such overwhelming emotions passed through him at the sight of her, too many to take. Sadness for what the father had done to the child. Despair that her mother had been taken away from her, a life cut too short.

But above all that, he felt wonder swell up his heart. Sheer wonder and amazement at just who he was holding in front of him; When he inspected Agnes's tiny facial features carefully, he thought he could see Lizzy in her. Already and so soon, he could see parts of Lizzy in this small child.

She was that one important part of Lizzy that she had left behind. A piece of her born into the world, a part of her that would live and carry on while the love of his life ceased to.

And _he_ was holding her. _He_ was holding the last piece of Lizzy that was left in the world. The moment felt so terribly poignant and bittersweet.

"Hello, sweetheart," Red whispered gently, his voice shaking with vulnerability, as Agnes peered up at him through half-slit, sleepy eyes. "Look at you." He slid the pink beanie that she was wearing off with his fingers with the utmost care from her scalp, her head abundant with thick, dark black hair. "You look _so much_ like your mother, Agnes. _So much_ like her. You're beautiful."

And now her father had abandoned her. Her father had deserted the one last, living reminder of Lizzy that was left in this world.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Red found himself sitting on a chaise on a beach. He did not recall how he got there. A great expanse of sand surrounded him that seemed to carry on and on, the only sound to be heard waves lapping up on the shore.

He peered out into the blue ocean, the bright morning sun scanning into his eyes, blinding him momentarily. Once he blinked and squinted compulsively, his vision cleared and, as if in a sudden burst of light, _she_ was there.

Her back was turned to him as she loped into the water, knee-deep. Her dress was stark white in contrast to the depth-less ocean, to the heavy dunes of sand.

 _Lizzy._

He opened his mouth from where he sat in the chaise, desiring nothing more than to call her name, to bring her back safely to the shore. Yet while his mouth formed around the words, his voice was not working. A suffering, consuming despair filled him.

He couldn't get through to her, seemingly no matter how hard he tried.

She turned, her profile a focal point to the backdrop of the ocean and the bright, white rays of the sun surrounding her. One hand went to her heavily engorged, pregnant belly as she caressed it, the other hanging limply at her side as she bent with her knees, her slender fingers dipping into the water.

A great powerful gush of wind blew his fedora off his head, sending it into the sand meters away from where he sat, yet he could hardly care less. All that mattered was what was in front of him; That he not become distracted and lose sight of her, not even for a short second.

The sight of Lizzy, to see her alive again, it felt so bittersweet, so surreal.

The instance he regained use of his limbs, it felt like a sheer miracle. He staggered away from the chaise, battling against the sudden vicious breeze that picked up. His trench coat rustled heavily and the gusts of wind threw him sideways, almost knocking him off his feet, as he trudged through the thick mountains of sand to reach her, still keeping his eyes on nothing else but Lizzy.

It was as if nature alone did not want him to get to Lizzy, as if the entire world was against him.

As if they were in a glass dome of beach and sand, an echoing cry broke out through the air, the sound of a helpless baby desperate to be fed and reassured by human contact.

It did not matter though. There was one thing he had to do, above all else. And that was to reach Lizzy before time ran out.

Red came to an immediate stand-still by the shore when he saw Lizzy turn towards him, showing her back to the sun. He wondered if he was having a heart attack when he saw how pale she was, how drained of life, her hand still pressed against her heavily swollen belly.

"Lizzy," he called desperately, relieved his voice was cooperating with him. "Lizzy, please... you have to come to the shore. The currents too strong!"

The crying broke through whatever words it was that she was going to say to him in response, and everything suddenly stopped. Just like that, everything vanished. No beach, no sand that stretched on for miles and miles. No chaise, no violent bursts of air. Most importantly of all, no more Lizzy, but... darkness. Darkness filled his vision, and then there came that screeching noise of a baby, filling his ears.

His throat tight with grief at the lost image of her, he opened his eyes, the view of a ceiling coming into view, the warmth of the crackling fireplace. He looked around groggily, his head clearing. He was at the safe house, sitting as he usually was in his armchair, but he must have dozed.

Seeing Lizzy standing there in the water, the beach... it must have all been nothing more than a dream.

As awareness seeped into his brain, he recalled what parts of the vision that were most certainly not a dream. The child crying. Agnes.

He shot up out of the armchair, racing towards where he had placed her in the other room on the middle of the mattress, his knees sore as if he had truly been battling against the ferocious winds of nature.

His heart lifted as he stood over the tiny girl, wrapped tight in the pink blankets so that she wouldn't roll over during the night and- dare the horrendous thought even cross him - suffocate in her sleep.

"Oh, I'm sorry I left you, sweetheart," he whispered softly, reaching over to pick Agnes up, supporting her weight carefully in his arms as she resumed crying. He sat on the edge of the mattress, swaying gently and hushing her as he observed her face, the way her small eyes scrunched up, her pudgy cheeks red from the longevity of her crying. "Ssh, it's quite all right." He patted around her back with his fingers.

Red did not think he would ever tire of looking at her, despite how painful the howling was on his ears. It was all so tragically mesmerizing, watching her, really. He had full confidence that, once she grew into her skin, she would look exactly like her mother. The dimpled smile, the bright eyes. It was so unbelievably cathartic, holding the last piece of Lizzy that she had left behind.

Hungry. It occurred to him that she must be so unbearably hungry.

Her head turned towards his jacket, as if she was desperately searching for a way to feed. It only sunk in just how hopeless the circumstances that he found himself in were, when he stood, placing Agnes back down in the middle of the bed carefully.

He was in no uncertain terms prepared for this. He hadn't had to properly care for a baby since when Jennifer was first born over twenty years ago. It had been far too long, and he wondered if perhaps he was out of his depths. Perhaps he should consider what Lizzy had wanted to do before she had decided to keep the baby? Perhaps he ought to consider giving the child up for adoption?

He was not the best person in the world for the job of taking care and raising an infant, and he knew that without any doubts or delusions.

But he also knew the type of man that he was, and he was confident in it; He was not a man who ran away from his responsibilities. His main responsibility for now, though avenging Lizzy's death seemed more satisfying, was Agnes.

Her sobbing grew even louder and piercing when he found the bag Jacob had left for him. He found three baby bottles and the formula in the bag, then had to read the directions on the back of the canister. It seemed simple enough; the instructions to follow on what was a suitable amount to give a child Agnes's weight and age.

Once the bottle was done and the formula prepared, he went back into the room, sitting on the bed again. It was a moment of sheer and profound relief when, the instance he held Agnes curled up in his left arm and gently wormed the teat of the bottle past her small lips, her cries stopped, as another new instinct took over.

A pleasant silence filled the room as she sucked the liquid through the teat, making the occasional, greedy grunting noise that humored him. _Yes, after all that dreadful noise, the one solution to make it all easily stop was to cure and satiate her hunger._ Red felt ashamed that he hadn't thought of that earlier, though in his defense, it had been a dreadfully long time since he had even held a child in his arms.

Agnes looked rather sweaty and red. Concerned, he moved his hand to her forehead, touching her skin with the back of his fingers as he held her close. She felt warm, warmer than what was probably natural, so he unwrapped the blankets, loosening them from around her face so that she could cool off.

Without knowing why, his mind drifted back there as he held the back of her head in his hand with care as she suckled urgently, perhaps unconsciously.

 _"Congratulations, Elizabeth. May I see her?"_

 _"No. Get out. Please, go away. Tom, tell him to get away."_

 _"It's been a long day. She's had a lot of drugs..."_

 _"It's not the drugs. This is my daughter. I'm begging you. Don't let him touch her."_

It was, he felt, the most hurtful thing, to have to hear Lizzy react the way she had when he had entered the makeshift hospital in the old nightclub after having given birth to her daughter. She hadn't wanted him to go near her, let alone see or touch her child, and it had caused her great distress with his mere presence in the room. It had been as if Lizzy believed he was capable of doing something terrible to her child, as if he were that evil and repugnant.

Red felt his eyes go moist at the memory, the wound at losing Lizzy still so fresh and raw.

He peered down at Agnes, discovering the liquid in the bottle was very nearly all gone. She had drained the bottle dry- and so quickly. When she was simply sucking air from in the bottle, he wiggled the teat out of her mouth, watching her as she stared back up at him contently, blinking at him slowly through thick, dark eyelashes.

"Ah, there we go," he said in happiness at the lovely silence that was shared between the two of them. "You feel better now that you've been fed, don't you, sweetheart?" He felt no embarrassment at all in talking to her, as if she could even begin to understand him. "Forgive me. I should have already known that that were the true reason for your crying."

He wondered what Lizzy would think of them now, if she had come across them like this. A part of him suspected that she would be angry and defensive, that she would demand he pass Agnes over to her at once, that he get away from her. She would fear that he would end up corrupting her, causing her a miserable life filled with constant danger and heartache.

 _And yet, here they were._

"We'll make Lizzy proud," he said to Agnes, his voice thick, and he meant it with all of his heart. "I will protect you like I should have always protected her. I'll... guide you along, love you as much as I can, and keep you safe, because... you are _hers_. You are _her_ child."

 ** _Hope this one was okay. Pardon any mistakes, English is not my first._**


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